Hunger
by edgefag
Summary: Teddy Lupin suffers survivor's guilt that can only be comforted by one person. One-shot with an unexpected twist.     This is my first story on here, ratings would be nice. :


He could Apparate, of course, but tonight he felt like clearing his head. His broomstick was an option, too, but it didn't give him the same thrill as running. They didn't understand—the Weasleys especially—that it had nothing to do with wanting to feel like a Muggle. The sweat, the adrenaline, the lightheadedness . . . it was about wanting to feel like a human.

Teddy Lupin had been well-treated, pampered, even, what with three grandparents and Harry's family clamoring for his company. His godfather's fortune, not to mention his salary as Head of the Auror Office, didn't leave much to be desired physically. Well, materialistically at least, as Teddy noted with a chuckle that he was on his way to answer a rather pressing physical desire. He nimbly leaped over a fallen log, his traveling cloak billowing behind him as he loped deeper into the copse. The trees slowly grew taller; their branches entwining and grasping each other far above his head, blocking out the stars as he left Grandmum Andromeda's village far behind him.

She missed her. His mother. He could see it in Andromeda's sad half frown every time Nymphadora Lupin came up, as Teddy tended to let happen more than he should. But he couldn't help it and was unashamed to admit it, that he was fiercely proud of his parents. They had both died as heroes, martyrs, even, to make the world a better place for him—words out of the mouth of Remus himself. He felt a twinge of resentment toward his grandmother, recalling the last time that she had turned the subject away from her daughter, her own daughter . . . . She didn't realize what it meant to Teddy, seeing her unable to speak of the woman in whom he had invested so much of his admiration and gratitude. A tear stung his cheek and disappeared into the thin scruff along his jaw, which blazed crimson along with his hair to reflect his burgeoning anger. Andromeda Tonks had known his mother, known his father, too, for however brief an amount of time, didn't she understand that simply _knowing _them was more than Teddy could ever hope for? His mother had been reduced to nothing more than a memory that not even her own mother could bear to share with him.

Harry reckoned that Teddy was just like him, stuck in the same boat, but his godfather didn't get it. Harry Potter, orphaned when he was barely a year old, forced to grow up alone, given the chance to enact his revenge upon the man who had murdered his parents . . . . He could explain all he wanted about Lily's protection and the "twin cores" but it the end, he, Harry, had been given the opportunity to kill the bastard who tore his family apart, and he took it. He took it and Teddy would never be able to. Never . . . .

Teddy pitched forward in the darkness, by now miles away from his home, landing on hands and knees upon the cold earth, gasping as he stared at the ground beneath him. His parents were dead and had been avenged nineteen years ago. He was left with nothing, not even the slightest chance at closure. His very existence was all that he had to offer them, and it _wasn't enough._

Shivering, he turned his head skyward. The moon was nearly full, give it a few days and he would be able to pay his real tribute to his father. Oh well. Patience was never his best quality.

"Dad . . ."

The grey fur exploded out of every inch of his body, his face elongated into a snout, his clothing disappeared, and his muscles became liquid steel, streamlined and beautiful underneath taut skin. He knew full well that he would never experience the agony of the transformation as his father was forced to, never know what it was like to be trapped inside the mind of a monster. The hours and hours on end that he put into becoming an Animagus were nothing; it wasn't enough, but it was the best he could do. He lifted his great shaggy head again, closed his eyes, and howled, howled for the humiliation and guilt of being unable to show his admiration and love for his parents.

Teddy Remus Lupin set off at a sprint, tearing and leaping through the underbrush, seething and snapping his jaws as his father once did, willing his mind to give into that of the wolf. Just a few more miles. Moonlight appeared in staccato bursts through the widely-spaced gaps between the trees as the forest began to thin again; he crested a hill, catching a glimpse of the long, sloping expanse of dunes that gradually flattened into a wide plain of sand and met the shore, the water ablaze under the starry, cloudless sky. Just a few more.

He gracefully leaped his way down the opposite side of the hill. The sounds of a nearby road grew louder as the towering trees gradually gave way to saplings, shrubbery and grasses. He splashed through a fast-moving creek, shook himself off, and emerged at the side of the low highway, panting as he waited for two Muggle trucks to pass before sprinting across the two lanes. Preferring not to run on the loose sand, he loped along the side of the road—the "shoulder," Muggles called it—content to be passed by a number of cars until it began to curve away from the beach. He took off across the stretch of white sand, ignoring the discomfort in his paws to laugh inside his head at how absurd he must look, a lone wolf streaking along parallel to the shore in the middle of the night.

Just a bit further. Not two miles away, Victoire was waiting for him. Picturing her long, willowy form, her soft, silken hair, blonde with a touch of silver, and her piercing, cool blue eyes, Teddy was tempted to call her the only person who understood him.

_No,_ he thought, as Shell Cottage appeared as a small square shape on the flat horizon. Not even she could understand him. _She can only try. _He bounded along in silence until he reached the quaint white fence surrounding the cottage, perched on a low cliff.

In one graceful motion, he stood up on his hind legs, returning to his human form before he was completely vertical, turned on his heel, and appeared at Victoire's bedside with a crack. She was awake, sprawled serenely across her sheets. He met her dazzling smile with one of his own and she rose to greet him.

_She can only try_, he repeated to himself as her soft lips met his hungrily. And, closing his eyes in a silent tribute to Remus and Nymphadora, Teddy realized that he knew what it was like, only being able to try.


End file.
